Living Through the Dead
by sequestration13
Summary: Thor and Captain America bring their comrades back to life through stories. Somewhat inspired by Tim O'Brien's "The Lives of the Dead". Final chapter reworked to include 9/11 tribute.
1. Tis You Must Go and I Must Bide

Living through the Dead

Steve Rogers sat quietly on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial looking east. In the distance, the Washington Monument proudly stood between his view of the Capitol. At least that hadn't changed. What had changed was between them. A Korean War Memorial, a Vietnam War Memorial, a World War II Memorial. Without his blue and white suit, Captain Rogers hardly looked out of place. The United States Army had gave him a new Army Service Uniform for him to wear, and so looked like any other veteran gazing at the beating heart of the idea he or she had sworn to protect, albeit one that had more metal on it than an average military dictator.

After the previous night, in which he visited Bucky Barnes' grave across the Potomac at Arlington National Cemetery, a heavy pall had cast itself onto his face, and while the spit-and-polish Captain was loath to admit it, he had indeed been feeling under the weather. While hundreds of tourists went about their business, Rogers quietly slunk off of the steps and made his way around the reflecting pool. The medals clinked against each other with each step, while his boots squeaked on the walkway. A breeze blew across the Mall and small ripples appeared in the otherwise serene pool. Intrigued, Rogers turned his head and into the pool and watched as the ripples lapped against the concrete retaining wall. Once the pool was still once more, Captain Rogers saw a brown haired man walking towards him, in the water. It looked an awful lot like "Bucky?"

James Buchanan Barnes stood in full relief quietly observing the Captain and the sky above. Gone from the eyes was the sheer terror. Gone from the hair was the light dusting of snow from Dr. Zola's train. This was Bucky as he was supposed to be remembered, as proud and as snappy as that day at the Stark World Expo. But as Steve bent over to get a better look, another breeze blew by and cruelly erased that image, the form slowly dissipating into the depths of the water.

As Captain Rogers slowly walked on, he reached the World War II memorial and, ignoring the rest of the monument, cast his sights on the Remembrance Wall. Each star represented a hundred Americans killed in the war. Captain Rogers remembered the families that had hung service flags on their doors with stars sewn into them. Each blue star represented a member of the family involved in the war. A gold star represented one that had fallen in the line of duty. On the wall in front of Captain Rogers was the United States' service flag. Four thousand and forty-eight golden stars, with each star representing a hundred Americans, hung in front of the Captain. He did not see mocking faces, feel any hint of condescension, or even sympathy, but the long held wounds that had been temporarily put at rest were being torn open as effectively as if by a Chitauri blade.

Who was he kidding? Captain America had indeed been a symbol of war, but how could he continue on when there seemed to be no such thing anymore. A global scale war would never happen again, and for that Steve was glad. But the idea of a limited engagement seemed jst as foreign to him as that of a microwave oven. The United States doesn't go into a war to lose, it goes to win . . .

"Captain", a voice boomed behind him. Snapped out of his reverie, Rogers turned around into a buoyant Norse god of thunder.

"Thor," Steve replied. "I don't believe you told me anything of your visit.

"Oh dear, Captain Rogers. 'Twas a truly desperate event. We have need of your services back in the New City of York. The Man of Iron has specifically requested your aid in this matter and entreats you to return."

Something was niggling at Captain Rogers. "How did you come back? I thought Loki's trial was not until next month."

Instantly, Thor's shoulders slumped and his eyelids drooped. For the first time since Steve had seen him on the quinjet from Stuttgart, he saw dark circles under his eyes. "My brother was murdered," was all Thor could spit out.

Rogers immediately asked, "Rogue factions, militias, what?"

Thor quickly turned around and began walking towards the Capitol. Captain Rogers silently followed. Halfway down Constitution Avenue, the god of thunder began to talk.

"Our journey back to Asgard had gone without a hitch. We appeared before Heimdall, the gatekeeper, to let us back in. Ever the faithful servant, he warned us that the Allfather was in dire need of his rest." Thor paused as he waited for the white WALK signal before he crossed the road. "What Heimdall did not tell us was that Odin's prime minister had moved to begin trial proceedings in Loki's absence."

Rogers slowly moved along as Thor wove his tale of despair. "And the verdict?" he managed to ask.

Dark storm clouds soon moved over Washington D.C. and, while they did not shower rain onto the hundreds of tourists enjoying what had been a fine day, they slowly simmered in the sky, bolts of lightning flickering within and between them. "Tell me, Captain Rogers. What is the punishment for treason in Midgard?"

"Death."

"Ah, but my brother never official received his sentence. He was killed by an assassin the night we returned. Since that day, we have been . . . dealing with the aftermath."

Rogers shuddered as he thought of the "Asgardian Justice" that would have been dealt to Loki. Thor had to give several PowerPoint presentations on it to Barton just to satisfy him. Nobody bothered to ask how he managed to work PowerPoint. "So how have you been?"

"I wish I could say I am hale and hearty, but I sadly am not. Never can I say to you, dear Captain, that I can be truly happy."

Steve put on an expression of utmost sympathy on his face. It wasn't hard, not after he had been ruminating over the past day about the deaths that he had unwittingly ordered. Despite the sixty-five year difference, the wound was indeed very fresh, as Thor's was. "But the Avengers need you. Honestly, I feel very much the same way. After Agent Coulson's death, I attempted to bury what remained of my friends' deaths, but now, I'm not so sure."

The pair of them had finally reached the Capitol and, with their SHIELD passes giving them clearance, sat on the western steps. For a few minutes, they simply soaked up the majestic vista of a city struggling to identify itself. Thor, bright red cape billowing in the breeze, dismissed the storm clouds still present throughout the city with a wave of his hand. Sitting back down, he turned to Steve. "One of your greatest warriors gave a speech in this building. He told your council that 'Old soldiers never die. They just fade away.'"

Steve looked up, a haunted look still etched into his face. "Do you mean General MacArthur? My history studies have told me everything about his subsequent life."

"Aye. He was a good man, but in this case, he was wrong."

Rogers, well aware of his own legend fading away into the annals of history asked why.

"From what you have seen of me and of my brother's less than flattering description of me, you may be surprised at what I know. I sought information on the battles of all realms. And while I did indeed neglect my studies of magic, I became as proficient as I could in the language of warfare." Thor's pensive countenance steadily became more resolute as he continued on. "One of your great bards, O'Brien, was his name wrote that the dead do not die. They keep on living through the stories we tell.

"I know my brother lives on because he is right with me in my heart and my memories. The stories we tell gives him new life. But the stories I am about to share are enjoyed most agreeably with a tankard of mead."

The thunder god stood up and walked towards Constitutional Avenue. Steve followed him into the throng of people. Thor was not difficult to follow with his silver armor glinting in the renewed sunlight.

* * *

Nobody knew how Thor had done it, but he had successfully smuggled three casks of Odin's stocks of mead into his living quarters in Stark Tower. Just like his PowerPoint presentation, nobody really wanted to know either. Once Stark's Cessna touched down at LaGuardia and Happy had whisked the two men across the Manhattan Bridge into Stark Tower, Thor immediately had grabbed two large glasses and headed over to his suite.

Steve checked quite thoroughly for any sign of life within the living spaces. Tony Stark was hiding out in his lab, tinkering on a new prototype doohickey of some sort. Bruce, Natasha, and Clint were nowhere to be found. Once satisfied that nobody would be around to observe him drinking for the first time in nearly seventy years, Steve walked to the living room of the penthouse, ignoring the Loki-shaped hole in the center. Thor was already waiting for him, the Thunder god having shed his helm and cape and staring wistfully out at the city that his late brother had so nearly destroyed.

Sitting down on the couch next to Thor, Steve took a glass full of golden liquid and both men sat just as they had on the steps of the Capitol, hesitant to start telling the stories of their brothers in arms.

After a few glasses of the mead, the Steve could finally, for the first time, say that he would be affected by any alcohol. With liquid courage brimming in him for the first time, he began to speak. In no particular order, fantastical narratives began piling up between the two of them. How Loki successfully avoided getting his head chopped off by exploiting a loophole. How Bucky had crucially seen an aqueduct that allowed Rogers to flood an underground HYDRA base in Crete. The mead flowed quite quickly, and as Captain America and the god of Thunder eventually became inebriated, the both of them eventually sank into the quite comfortable sofas.

* * *

Tony Stark eventually came upstairs to find the two blond men sprawled out on his couches with several glasses of what smelled like mead scattered around his living room. After quietly fetching blankets and tucking them in, Tony slunk out of the room, and back into his lab. "JARVIS?"

"What can I do for you Mr. Stark?" JARVIS replied.

"Did you happen to prepare transcripts from the excitement last night?"

"Why of course, sir. I am uploading them to your tablet as we speak." A soft chime indicated the upload was complete. Tony picked up his tablet computer, opened a bottle of gin that he kept in his laboratory, and took out a crystal tumbler. This was going to be good.

* * *

Author's Note: This is my first "Avengers" project. Your response will determine if there is one more chapter or several.


	2. Coming Back When Summer's in the Meadow

Three and a half blocks northeast of Stark Tower, a smartly dressed man stepped into a Starbucks. While waiting in line, he peered south towards the monolith and nervously fidgeted with his cane. The barista asked for his order: he asked for a grande caramel macchiato. After paying with exact change and stepping out into the street, he turned around and headed north on Park.

He was a gaunt man, with eyes that sparkled and a gait that spoke of royalty. Almost too pale to be real, his sunken cheeks betrayed furtive mouth twitches. While holding his coffee in his right hand, he adroitly navigated the New York 7 'o clock rush with nary a missed step. Doubtless, a New Yorker in all but name, but what Loki, God of Mischief, was so adept at concealing was his self-imposed exile from Asgard.

Sure, that assassin had gladly accepted his payment to kill the body double he had sent to Asgard. But with the knowledge that the Chitauri and Thanos were after him, Loki had been forced to use drastic measures to run away. He knew that Thor would not take his death well, but to return to him would take a courage that Loki wasn't sure he had yet. Last time, Thor had pulled him out of an airplane.

Despite the coffee cup warming his right hand, a chill reverberated throughout his body as he remembered that night in which Thor was so close to convincing him to go back.

"You will come home." As Thor's imperious blue eyes melted into something far softer and his breath hitched, Loki could see a devastated shadow of his older brother, a brother who had been mourning for months for him. Loki could imagine it well, holed up in the palace sobbing night after night and refusing to let Odin or Frigga comfort him. He would dream about the past and what he had done wrong. He would dream wistfully of the future, one with Loki in it. But that dream was shattered on that mountain.

Just as Loki nearly shattered his coffee cup when he realized just how far he had gone past his destination.

* * *

James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes cautiously opened his apartment door. With reflexes that were uncannily quick, he bolted down the hallway and into the elevator. Seventy floors down, he slipped into the driver's seat of his car, and sped off into Midtown Manhattan. It had not been easy eluding the likes of the KGB for the last forty years after he had gone rogue, but with Vladimir Putin still concerned with supplying weapons to Syria, he was guaranteed at least a little time off.

Since that fateful day on Dr. Zola's train, the Winter Soldier, as he was known to the Soviets, had been discovered, resurrected, and improved. The bionic arm that he now wielded was almost as good as a real one. The Soviets had done their best to replicate the Erskine Super Soldier Serum, and it seemed to be working with few ill effects. However, after an encounter with his old commanding officer, Bucky had fled.

Never mind he was still technically an American citizen, and he had called New York City his hometown, the city still looked wrong. Everything was slightly out of sync. The quiet determination of a people at war had long dissolved. Nearly all of the buildings he knew were long gone.

Still, he had a meeting to get to, and he was running late.

* * *

Author's Note: I admit I feel less satisfied with the Bucky portion of this chapter.


	3. The Valley's Hushed and White with Snow

He quickly decided that not being able to drink wasn't too bad after all.

Captain Rogers slowly and painfully extricated himself from the silk blankets that kept him warm on Tony's expensive sofa. Chancing a glance out the window, he quickly looked back away. The eyes were not meant to see something that bright. Nor were the eyes meant to see Thor Odinson quite happily fixing breakfast for him. The sizzle of bacon still remained the same, hangover or not, and some coffee would do right about now. Seventy years ago, Bucky would stumble back to the barracks, no doubt having a rough night, and then simply collapse like a log onto his bed, never to be disturbed until 0500. That would be immediately followed by a round of cursing as the trumpet (or recording of one in some cases), would play Reveille as the soldiers stumbled out of their bunks and onto each other in some cases. That never happened to Captain Rogers, the good old Captain America, but . . . BACON!

" 'Twas quite the night of slumber, dear Captain. Why, when the Son of Stark hath merrily placed his blankets betwixt us-"

"Thor," groaned a very groggy Steve, "justa, lemme have somma that food."

"Nonsense, dear Captain. Stories build upon stories, for what is human history than one great story? In Asgard . . ."

"Food, Thor!" And without further prompting, the Norse demigod piled the bacon onto a plate, along with hash browns, scrambled eggs, and toast.

* * *

Tony Stark set down the tablet computer and barely managed to restrain himself from throwing the tumbler full of cognac (he'd run out of gin) at the wall. The Stark Industries founder was no stranger to loss, no callow recruit to the world of war, but the reminiscing of two proud warriors was nearly too much for him. Now feeling extraordinarily guilty for sending a false-alarm to Thor, Stark slowly crept up the stairs into his living room and now saw the god of thunder quite cheerfully cooking breakfast in the kitchen.

"MAN OF IRON!" came the expected salutation from Thor.

"SHUT UP, THOR!" came the unexpected reply from an unexpected source, followed by a bout of moaning and groaning from the super soldier.

"What's gotten into him, Point Break?" asked Tony, who was beginning to doubt that the Steve Rogers he put to bed last night was the same Capsicle.

"Ah, the Patriotic Man has still not recovered from our revelry last night!"

"Really?" Stark lied rather unconvincingly, but it would be enough to fool the hungover Captain and a Norse god that . . .

"So why have you summoned us to the New City of York at this time?"

Darn.

* * *

To many an outsider, Central Park looked like an aberration. A look from the air reveals a clearing in the rainforest of Manhattan. Heading north on Fifth, the strangely quiet land does not lend itself well to a city. However, the park is as integrated into the city as the flagship Apple store that lies across the street. Everyone flocks to it to find a respite from the city's madness; rich or poor, New Yorker or tourist. It is this calmness that Bucky Barnes seeks ever since the assassination of Colonel Phillips.

Taking out a piece of white bread, the Winter Soldier breaks it up and starts to throw it into the pond, gently drawing the attention of the ducks in the nearby reeds. Hearkening back to a covert op in Afghanistan, Bucky remembers infiltrating a mosque. The imam reminded the congregation that there were always two angels following each man: one on the right to record the good, one on the left to record the bad. It is on the grand scale that Allah would judge his followers. Bucky shuddered at what he had done for the Soviets, and wondered if he could ever make it up. His ledger was gushing red.

Which is why he was soon meeting a gaunt man dressed in an expensive suit with a green tie.

* * *

"We had a confirmed Loki sighting," sighed Tony, who was reluctantly spilling the beans in his situation room. "Reindeer Games was ordering a caramel macchiato at a coffee shop – three and a half blocks to our northwest?!" sputtered a now incredulous Tony Stark. "How did he get so close? JARVIS?!"

"It appears, sir, that you programmed my tracking algorithm to prioritize searching for Mr. Laufeyson's HELMET, rather than his face," came the emphatic reply.

"Man of Iron, was this really the best of decisions considering that my brother is a powerful sorcerer and can magick himself whatever garments he pleases?" Thor inquired of Tony.

"Um, yeah. Right. Here was the problem: we were drawing false positives on the facial recognition software on one Tom Hiddleston of London. Who else wears a great horned helmet and struts around doing so? It's foolproof."

Captain Rogers finally spoke up. "JARVIS, where is he now?"

"That's the funny thing. He appears to be in Central Park at the duck pond across the street from that Apple store."

"Since Dr. Banner isn't set to arrive for another day or so and Agents Barton and Romanov are in Johannesburg, we will have to deal with this ourselves."

"Captain Rogers, you may wish to see this."

Steve slowly turned around to face a television screen and saw two men sitting on a park bench. One was a thin man whose every look screamed malice. Another man was one that could not, should not . . .

"We're leaving right now."


	4. I'll Be Here in Sunshine or in Shadow

A consequence of living in New York was, of course, the endlessly horrific traffic, but since Thor had Mjölnir and Tony had his suit, arriving in Central Park took all of two minutes. And yet, there they were, five men surrounding a park bench, but with nary a dry eye. After a bone crushing hug from Thor, Loki looked absolutely traumatized and was barely leaning against a sobbing Thor. In the midst of this emotional upheaval, Steve stood for the longest time in front of Bucky. No words were exchanged as the both of them sized each other up. A simple handshake sufficed and soon, the five of them were laughing and swinging their way to Lower Manhattan. Stark wanted to show Captain America and Thor something.

Steve's face fell when he realized what Stark wanted to show him. A park filled with trees and two cascading waterfalls, each nearly an acre large. A podium had been erected in the center and a large mass of people gathered around it to simply hear names being called, one at a time.

Captain Rogers knew and Thor knew what this was. They had seen several just a day ago. A memorial. But unlike those back in Washington D.C., Steve knew that this was not one for war and Thor knew it was not for those who had fallen gloriously in battle and been granted passage to Valhalla. It was a testament to the grief of an entire nation, an homage to the faraway heady days of the past, where the contiguous United States had never experienced a truly national catastrophe.

That was eleven years ago.

Loki fully understood why. He thought killing civilians was rather distasteful since most of them lacked the means to fight back, but with The Other and Thanos giving him little choice in the matter, he acted the part quite convincingly. But when Thor had confronted him on top of Stark Tower, he was so close to joining him.

Suddenly, the name reading stopped.

Tony Stark was shocked for the second time today and watched as Steve Rogers mounted the podium. He gave a quick lookaround and then began speaking.

_This day for some of you was viewed through the television. For others, you witnessed the terrible event yourselves. Some others were silently sitting in their classrooms, wondering what had just happened. Eleven years ago you all watched as two pillars reaching into the heavens had collapsed under the seeming omnipotence of hate and bigotry. My team and I cannot say that we were all there at the time, but this nation has recovered and it will continue to do so, just as in my time. December 7, 1941. Seventy-one years ago, I read about the event. I read the headlines that were almost three inches tall. I remember watching a nation heading off to war. My classmates all enlisted. It didn't matter what we could do, it was just that we did it for the effort. This city, and this nation, continued doing that, on a day in which nobody ever seemed safe from the wrath of a misguided few._

_One of the first things that struck me when I came back home was the forest of skyscrapers. They continued to get taller and taller, and when I crossed over the Queensboro Bridge on the way from La Guardia, I could not help but be proud of my home. But once I began flying over the city, I noticed a clearing in Lower Manhattan. At first I thought it was construction, as a huge, gleaming structure was soaring up, as if to touch the clouds. But when I visited what I thought was a park on the ground for the first time, a pallor hung in the air. Lo and behold. There were two fountains the size of buildings and nearly three thousand names inscribed in bronze and warm to the touch. Only later did I learn that thousands had worked in the footprint of those fountains. Only later did I learn what happened that day._

_If there is anything my time in the ice has taught me it is that the United States of America has always risen to meet extraordinary challenges. My last memories were that of trying to preserve a free world. Yours have been to avenge the deaths of your fellow countrymen and to solve a quandary that has plagued the world for the last sixty years. Who knows where we shall be in seventy years? How will America do such a thing? There is always a solution to any problem. It may not be easy, such like it was in my time, but there is indeed a way out._

_The writers of history have deemed me a part of the "Greatest Generation". But I disagree. Each generation is its own greatest generation. This is no more exemplified by what you have accomplished eleven years later. _

_On September 11, 2001, some of those who were trapped in the top floors of those two buildings, the World Trade Center, or the Twin Towers, were desperately hoping for a chance at rescue. But some knew there would not be one. So, from nine hundred feet up, they decided to jump. For a few seconds, they were able to take in the view of this great city one last time as gravity took them for a final time. Those men and women saw the worst of humanity that day, but they also saw a country ready to remember them. That has been the same for every patriot who stands up for his country, back since 1775 until today. This nation never forgets those who lay down their lives as payment for our freedoms, nor will it ever as their stories continue to bring them to life. Whether they are eleven, seventy-one, or thousands of years old, old heroes never die, nor do they simply fade away._

_Thank you, and God bless the United States of America._

Throughout this impromptu speech, Thor kept looking nervously at Loki, as if he would use his shape-shifting powers again to get out of it. But Loki sat and politely listened. Tony resisted the urge to crack jokes and all sat silently until the Captain finished speaking.

Only the cascading water behind the podium disturbed the peace as Steve walked away. The reading of names continued on, as it would well into the afternoon. But with their friends right beside them, both men out of time and both Asgardians walked back through the streets of New York with the lightness of heart that comes only with belonging.

* * *

Disclaimer: The Avengers, the Avengers Logo, Captain America, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, Iron Man, Tony Stark, Loki Laufeyson, The Winter Soldier, and James Buchanan Barnes are the intellectual property of Marvel Entertainment, a division of the Walt Disney Company. The screenplays and stories of the motion pictures _Thor_ (2011), _Captain America: The First Avenger _(2011), and _The Avengers_ (2012) are owned by Marvel Studios, a division of Marvel Entertainment and distributed by Walt Disney Pictures in association with Paramount Pictures. The user sequestration13 understands that the previous characters and stories are under protection by copyright law now belonging to the Walt Disney Company. Additionally, "The Lives of the Dead" is a part of the anthology, _The Things They Carried _by Tim O'Brien and is published by Houghton Mifflin as well as being protected through copyright law. No copyright infringement was intended by the posting of this work, nor will any profit be made off of this work "Living Through the Dead".

* * *

Author's Note: I am undecided on what to do for a new project. Go to my profile and vote in my poll to help me decide what to do.

The Avengers/Marvel Cinematic Universe: "Cinema Avengers: The Dark Knight" The Avengers are recruited to star in a remake of Christopher Nolan's "The Dark Knight".

The Avengers/Marvel Cinematic Universe: "Jerusalem" Alternate Universe in which Loki and the Chitauri win the Battle of New York City.


	5. Deleted Scene: A Son Among Thy Sons

_A Son Among Thy Sons_

_Prepared Transcript for Mr. Tony Stark from JARVIS. Conversation between Crown Prince of Asgard Thor Odinson and Captain Steve Rogers._

Captain Rogers: You say that in Asgard your stories are preserved in song?

Thor Odinson: Nay, they are also stored in the great libraries and citadels of Asgard as well.

Captain Rogers: In Midgard, we still have those stories. But there are sometimes songs that convey a sense of national identity as well. These are what we call national anthems. Each kingdom on Midgard has its own set of songs.

Thor Odinson: Does that not get confusing for Midgardians, having so many songs to sing?

Captain Rogers: No, as each Midgardian belongs to only one land, and thus only has to remember one set. There was this time, though, that Bucky and I were in England. We were staying there before we were set to hit a HYDRA base in the North Sea. Before we were set to depart, the Brits performed their music for us and the troops as a whole. There was one song that affected all of us. It was called "I Vow to Thee, My Country".

_At this point, Captain Rogers began to sing all verses of the song_.

Thor Odinson: And how is this song not in your collection of favored songs?

Captain Rogers: Beats me. But anyway, almost all of us were weeping and crying and all sad. But then Bucky – good old Bucky – screams out "You limeys don't know anything! That song's meant for us too!"

Thor Odinson: Does he know not that offending one's homeland is the surest way to get in a battle?

Captain Rogers: [Taking a swig of mead]. I mean come on. That second verse? "I heard my country calling, away across the sea, across the waste of waters she calls and calls to me"? Bucky and I traveled across the Atlantic Ocean together. Not on the same boat, mind you, but the same ships where if you didn't smell sweat, sick, and slime, you were dead. Millions of soldiers made the journey, in which we were cooped up for several days.

Thor Odinson: What about the Man of Iron's fancy jet planes?

Captain Rogers: We didn't have those in my time. I remember that night, after extricating ourselves from the brawl that later ensued, looking west, back over the ocean. I heard a twig snap, and caught Bucky with a rather guilty expression on his face. He asked me what I was doing. I replied with a dogma that only those imbued with the Tesseract's power could be.

Thor Odinson: And that was?

Captain Rogers: "She calls to me". The green lady that looks over our harbor.

Thor Odinson: So you missed the New City of York?

_Captain Rogers remains silent for the next few minutes, doing nothing but staring out over Manhattan. He eventually turns and semi-walks/semi-stumbles his way to the other side of the tower, dragging Thor Odinson with him._

Captain Rogers: Does your home not call to you? Do you miss Asgard?

Thor Odinson: Nonsense. I am home here, just as I am at home in Asgard. Here, I am surrounded by friends; in Asgard, I am surrounded by friends. You were surrounded by friends in the land of England, were you not?

_Captain Rogers and Thor Odinson reach the other side of the tower, with a view looking south towards Lower Manhattan and the Verrazano Narrows._

Captain Rogers: Yes, but for me, and Bucky, and Dum Dum, and the rest of my team, there never was a greater feeling than sailing home back into the harbor, knowing we did our duty and our country, our "land across the sea" was indeed safe, whole and hearty.

_Thor Odinson looks out across the city and sees a large woman on a brown pedestal clad in green, her right hand holding a torch extending towards the eastern sea, her left hand holding a tablet. For once, Thor is inclined to agree._

Captain Rogers: Bucky loved this city as much as I did. Seeing it in flames probably would have set him off as much as anybody. Never could I ever fault him for having bravery. All it took was having a small glimpse of New York torched by HYDRA, he would make me look like a pacifist.

_Thor Odinson and Captain Rogers look out and stare out the window some more before returning to their couches._

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for the enthusiastic response to my work.


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